


Remember That Thing That Didn't Happen?

by irena_adler



Series: Didn't Happen [2]
Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Closeted Character, Drugged Sex, Hero Worship, Hospital Sex, Injury Recovery, M/M, Painkillers, Penis Size, Secrets, Smart Is The New Sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-25 08:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14973248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irena_adler/pseuds/irena_adler
Summary: Matt forgets that he was supposed to have forgotten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Remember That Thing That Didn’t Happen? (Part 1 of 2)—**

“Getting shot isn’t that bad,” Matt said.

Lucy ‘I’m-A-McClane-Only-When-It-Suits-Me’ Gennero laughed. “You’re only saying that because you’re drugged out of your mind.”

“There might be some validity to that accusation,” Matt said cheerfully, leaning back in his hospital bed. He surveyed the room with satisfaction – a clean, comfortable, solo hospital room where no one was trying to arrest him, shoot him, blow him up, or ask him to be brave. He just wished the nurses wouldn’t limit his Red Bull consumption so much.

“You doing okay otherwise?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Matt said. This place was nicer than his apartment was—had been. “You?”

“My part was pretty short and I’m glad those bastards are dead. You and my dad did most of the dirty work.”

Matt smiled, pleased to be categorized with Superman McClane. “It doesn’t bother you that he was shot?”

“He survived,” Lucy said with a shrug. “He always does. You get kind of used to your dad being Mr. Hero. He was overdue for a ‘Save the World’ day.”

“He is a hero,” Matt said. “I can’t believe how much he got banged up and hurt and bled all over the place but kept going.”

“Yeah,” Lucy agreed with another worldly shrug. “I don’t think he’d stop even if he got his head chopped off.”

“’Don’t lose your head,’” Matt said with an admittedly terrible Sean Connery voice.

“What?”

“’Don’t lose your head,’” Matt repeated in his normal voice. “Highlander.”

She looked at him blankly.

He continued, “Best movie that should never have had a sequel. Though the TV show was pretty good, even if they had to ignore the entire premise of the original movie to have the TV show. At least there wasn’t any aliens on hover boards, though another from the same clan being immortal is kind of pushing the point—”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You never shut up, do you? I’m surprised my dad didn’t kill you himself.”

“Him?” Matt grinned. “He’s just gab, gab, gab. I can never get a word in edgewise.”

Lucy laughed. “Always talking, my dad.”

“Always saying, ‘That’s interesting,’ and ‘Tell me more’ and ‘Let’s discuss current events.’”

“And wanting to talk about his feelings,” Lucy said, snickering. “All touchy-feely.”

That made Matt’s mind swerve into an entirely arena, as he remembered just how it had been to be touched and felt by John McClane. A flush of warmth swept over him. He hadn’t dwelled much on that incident, on that incredible sex break during their desperate road trip. What happened after it had been so overwhelming that anything else had been pushed aside. Now, several days, several operations, and several thousand minutes of interrogation later, he finally began remembering it. And how.

All of the blood left in his body rushed groinward, leaving him even more light-headed than he was and probably also grinning like an idiot.

“He’s an amazing fucker,” Matt said dreamily.

“Yeah,” Lucy agreed. “He never ceases to amaze me with how much of a bastard he is. Did I tell you what he did to my boyfriend the other day – well, he’s really not my boyfriend but—”

“I know he’s a bastard,” Matt interrupted, unsure of why it was important that she understand. “But I was speaking literally.”

“Huh?”

“As in,” Matt said slowly and clearly, “He got naked and fucked my ass and it felt amazing.”

She stared at him, and then her face went red. “If I didn’t know you were drugged out of your mind, I’d break your other knee. He saved your life and you go and make up such a horrible lie.”

“But it’s not a lie!”

Lucy jumped to her feet. “You’re a fucking bastard! That’s not funny!”

“I wasn’t trying to…”

But Lucy was already stomping out of the room. She slammed the door open and it banged against the wall.

The echo of her footsteps down the hall was still ringing in Matt’s ears when John ‘Always-A-McClane-Whether-I-Want-To-Be-Or-Not’ McClane walked through the open door. He was shaved and clean and dressed in a bathrobe over his hospital gown. Much better than bloody, ripped clothing. Though Matt hadn’t minded the occasional glimpses of Superman’s skin …

“What did you say to her?” John asked, hooking a thumb in Lucy’s direction. “Usually only me or her mother can get her that mad.”

“Oh,” Matt shrugged. “She’s just pissed because I told her that I’m more interested in you than her.”

John stopped short and looked at him. “You what?”  
  
“I told her that you fucked me, that’s all.”

“You _WHAT_?”

Matt held up his hands defensively and felt a terrible sinking sensation that he’d forgotten something – or rather, he’d remembered something he was supposed to have forgotten. “Don’t worry, she didn’t believe me. Who would?”

Very quietly, John turned and shut the door.

Matt swallowed nervously. “I don’t mean that no one would believe that someone would be more interested in you than in her, because you’re a very attractive man, though she’s a very attractive girl—”

John was slowly walking towards him, his face stony.

“—but attraction is an odd biochemical thing that can’t really be predicted, though they’re doing some interesting research in—”

“I thought you understood that it didn’t happen,” John said, and his voice was soft and quite terrifying.

“Umm,” Matt stammered, images flashing before his eyes of how dangerous John could be. “I’d forgotten that it _did_ happen until this very moment, actually, and that was right before I remembered that it _didn’t_ really happen, but right after I’d told Lucy that it _did_ happen. I’m so sorry, John, Officer McClane, but I swear to God that Lucy didn’t believe me and everyone knows I’m super hopped up on drugs because I’m a wimp and can’t stand pain and so no one believes anything coming out of my mouth, like how I keep saying ‘I need more Red Bull’ and they ignore me because no one is paying the slightest attention, just saying Nurse things like ‘we need to regulate your caffeine intake’ and what the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

John had come to stand by the side of Matt’s bed, and no one who was dressed in a bathrobe and hospital gown should be able to loom so well.

Matt pressed himself back into his pillow. “Really she didn’t believe me don’t kill me please?”

The corner of John’s mouth twitched. “After all I did to keep you alive?”

“Would be counter-productive,” Matt said hopefully. “But as soon as I’m out of here, you don’t ever have to think of me again and I’ll never give up your secret. What secret? There’s no secret here. Move along, no secret.”

John’s mouth twitched again and Matt thought that it might actually be a tiny smile. “You never do shut up, do you?”

“No, never, one of my most annoying qualities, I’m sure. I talk even more when I’m nervous and you standing there all mad and solid is about as nervous as I can get.”

This time it was a definite smile, accompanied by a familiar shake of his head. John said, “I’m not mad.”

“No? Really?”

“I know drugs can mess you up, and with your whining they probably put you on some pretty powerful drugs.”

“Yes, right, absolutely. Whining, that’s me.”

“But when you’re off the drugs, you’re going to remember—”

“Yes, absolutely. Never happened. Maybe that means it can never happen one more time, like right now?”

John’s eyes narrowed and Matt’s hand flew to his mouth. Where had that come from?

But now that he’d said it, Matt knew that he really _really_ meant it. He desperately wanted John to fuck him again, this time without the fate of the world in the balance.

“Well, why not?” Matt said recklessly.

“Don’t,” John growled.

“Do, please do.” Matt sat up straighter. “One more fuck for the road?”

“Not going to happen.”

“Oh, why not? I know your secret and it’s going to go to the grave with me, I swear.”

John was standing very still, and Matt could hear John’s ragged breathing. He looked more stressed than he had even in the worst of the fire sale. Matt almost _almost_ backed down, but the memory of John’s touch was burning on Matt’s skin, and his asshole ached. When John walked out of this hospital, Matt would probably never see him again, except on TV. This was Matt’s last chance for another incredible sexual experience and—maybe it was the drugs making him foolhardy—he was desperate to get it.

Matt ran his hands down his body, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin hospital gown. Matt watched John and John watched Matt’s hands. Matt reached his groin, where his cock was semi-hard and waiting. He smoothed the material over his cock and balls, outlining each bump.

“Stop that,” John said hoarsely. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” Matt asked, continuing to rub his crotch.

“You’re offering beer to a recovering alcoholic. It’s not going to happen.”

But John’s eyes were stuck on Matt’s hands, and his breathing was getting rougher.

“Not the same,” Matt said cheerfully. “Beer’s bad, I’m not. Being an alcoholic is bad but being a Mattaholic is a good thing.”

John didn’t smile at Matt’s words, or even react. He just seemed frozen in place. John, who had never frozen in the worst of the terrorism chaos, was brought to a standstill by Matt’s suggestion.

Matt hated to see John like that, so he decided to push the issue.

He rolled over and got on his hands and knees sideways on the bed, with his ass toward John. His hospital gown slid open and exposed his whole lower body.

He balanced on one hand and, with his other hand, spread his asscheeks to show off his hopefully-tempting asshole—Or rather, that was what Matt tried to do. One of his knees kept buckling underneath him for some reason, every time he lifted a hand. He floundered and almost slid off the bed – until two warm, large hands gripped his hips and held him steady.

“You’re going to hurt your knee,” John said, and his voice sounded odd, tight.

Matt frowned, remembering belatedly his injured knee. So much for trying to be too tempting to resist. Slowly John turned him back over, manipulating Matt like he was a doll, so that Matt lay on his back, his legs dangling foolishly over the side of the bed on each side of John’s hips.

As soon as Matt was stable, John let go and stepped back. Matt grabbed hold of the hospital sheets and struggled to gain a more dignified position. He stopped even trying when John turned and walked to the door. Matt would just lay here and wallow in his humiliation.

Matt closed his eyes and waited for the sound of the door closing on his comradeship/acquaintance-ship/whatever-the-fuck-it-was-ship with John.

But the slamming door didn’t come. Instead, there was a long moment of quiet then a soft click. The door lock. Matt heard John returning and, keeping his eyes closed, Matt struggled again to turn himself on the bed. When they found his corpse, at least he wouldn’t make them wonder why he was hanging off the side of the bed.

Warm, large hands gripped Matt’s lower legs. “Stop.”

Matt opened his eyes to see John standing beside his hospital bed again. His face was totally unreadable.

Matt tried to pull his legs from John’s grip, but it was like iron. “So that you can strangle me easier?”

“I’m not going to strangle you.” John’s grip tightened. “You’re going to damage your knee.”

“It’s already damaged,” Matt mumbled automatically, but he let John help him to a slightly better position – diagonal on the bed.

Once there, John quickly let go of Matt’s legs. The place where John’s hands had been now felt light and cold.

John took a step back from the bed. “Why?”

“Wha-huh?” Matt responded intelligently.

“Why me, why now?”

“Um,” Matt stammered. “Because I’ll probably never see you again after this. Now’s my chance.”

John shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why are you torturing an old man like me?”

“Because … because I’m horny?”

John gave a wry snort. “I can see that. But you go to the right place and you’d have guys lined up around the block.”

“Really?” Matt squeaked. Then he cleared his throat and tried for a more calm tone, but just got a second squeak. “Really?”

“ _Really_ ,” John said with a welcome hint at his old scorn for the way Matt talked.

“Uh,” Matt said. “Probably not many as big as you.”

“So,” and the dry wit was definitely back. “You’re a size queen.”

“Sure,” Matt shrugged. “Isn’t everyone? I mean, size matters, right?”

“Not always, and I’m sure you can find a young guy who—”

“What is it with you and age?” Matt snapped with sudden frustration. “You’re not in the grave, okay? God, you’re more ‘not in the grave’ then most of the human race. I don’t think a nuclear explosion would slow you down.”

John gave him one of his half-smiles. “I keep going when I need to. But shoot me and I slow down.”

“And bleed in an incredibly sexy way.”

John rolled his eyes. “That was a joke.”

“But true.”

“Just forget it, kid. Let me help you get on the bed better–”

“So you can fuck me?”

“Jesus, talk about not giving up.”

“I learned from the best.”

John reached down to help turn Matt. Abruptly, John grabbed his shoulder and grimaced. “Another excellent reason not to,” he grumbled.

“Look,” Matt said with a laugh. “I’m not asking your shoulder to fuck my knee, though that’s an interesting thought. I just want you to take your ridiculously massive cock and fuck my embarrassingly eager asshole, ok?”

John stared at him and a flush spread over Matt’s face and body – at both John’s gaze and his own bold words.

John began to grin. “Eager asshole, eh?”

“Embarrassingly so.”

John glanced over at the locked door. “You due for any meds soon?”

“No, none. No meds, ever again. Take your time.”

John’s grin widened. “I plan on it.” He put his hands on Matt’s bare thighs and slowly slid them up under his hospital gown, exposing Matt’s groin. Matt’s cock had gone soft while they were debating but it instantly sprang back into duty.

To Matt’s astonishment—he couldn’t have been more surprised if John had started talking in Latin or JavaScript—John took hold of Matt, pulled his sideways body closer to the edge of the bed, and sucked Matt’s cock into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Matt gasped, followed by “Fuuuuuck...” as John’s lips and tongue began to move. Matt raised his head and took in the incredible sight of John McClane’s scarred and stubbly head bent over Matt’s cock, his strong mouth working Matt as firmly and expertly as his hands worked a gun.

“Thank you, God,” Matt groaned. He let his head drop back to the bed with a thump as pleasure washed through him.

John wasn’t taking it easy on him, though, and way too soon Matt was feeling that warning throb in his balls.

“McClane, John,” Matt gasped. “Just back off a little, God, please, I’m gonna come, like _soon._ ”

John either ignored him or took it as a challenge because he didn’t slow down or back off one bit.

“Fuck,” Matt half-whimpered, half-sobbed. It was going far too fast for him to really enjoy. The pressure built until he was thrusting up between John’s lips and blasting his brains out of his cock.

John lifted his head slightly and let Matt’s cum drip out of his mouth and it was absolutely the dirtiest, most obscene thing Matt had ever seen. It made his cock give an extra, incredible spurt.

Matt sucked in air, because he’d forgotten to breathe for the last few minutes, and gasped, “ _That’s_ taking your time?”

John wiped cum off his chin and grinned at Matt. “It’s a start.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 'Inter-Mission', John intiates a sexual encounter during the day of the Fire Sale, then forbids Matt to ever mention it again.  In Part 1 of this story, it's days later and they're both in the hospital.  Matt is high on painkillers and forgets that he's supposed to have forgotten the sex, so tells Lucy about it.  Luckily, she doesn't believe him but John is furious.  Matt apologizes then reasons that if it didn't happen before, then it can 'not happen' again, right then and there.  John says that's like 'offering beer to an alcoholic' but suddenly changes his mind and gives Matt a quick and dirty blowjob.  He says, 'It's a start'.

**Part 2—**

“A start?” Matt gasped.

John grinned. “Yeah, otherwise a young kid like you is gonna go off when I’m just halfway there.”

“Oh,” Matt panted, still clinging onto the hospital bed while the world spun around him. John pulled the privacy curtain around the bed, then he found a loose blanket and laid it over Matt’s naked lower body. Matt blinked at him. He had been cold, but hadn’t realized it until John gave him the blanket.

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, old man,” Matt muttered. “You gonna need some warm-up time? Viagra?”

John shook his head. “Hell, I got hard as soon as I saw you in that flimsy dress.”

“‘Gender-neutral patient attire’,” Matt corrected.

“There ain’t nothing ‘neutral’ about your ‘gender’ in that thing,” John chuckled.

Matt flushed, both because of John’s teasing and the fact that John was leaning quite close to him. Matt wondered if John was going to kiss him, and if he wanted him to and if either the wanting or the kiss would mean something.

Matt swallowed against sudden jitters and managed to ask, “How did you rate a robe?  Is that just for the Hero patients?”

“Nobody wants to see me running around with my ass hanging out.”

“I wouldn’t say _nobody_ —” Matt protested.

“But _your_ ass, on the other hand …” John trailed off with a wry smile.

Then John did it. He leaned just that little bit closer and his lips met Matt’s. He slid one of his big hands behind Matt’s head and deepened the kiss.

Matt’s lips parted instantly, offering up the same instinctive trust he’d given John since his apartment blew up. John’s right hand cradled the back of Matt’s head, his left hand gripped Matt’s chin and he took total possession of Matt’s mouth.

To Matt’s embarrassment, he moaned as he grabbed hold of John’s hospital gown. He’d never been kissed so thoroughly and skillfully. He could feel it to the tips of his toes. His cock even gave a twitch of returning life.

Eventually John pulled away and grinned down at what must have been a completely dumbfounded expression on Matt’s face.

John’s grin faded and he murmured, “We better get moving before someone comes looking for us, maybe even Lucy.”

“That would be bad,” Matt said, “But she’s not you – a locked door would at least slow her down.” Matt tried to tug John’s mouth back to his. “Still, she’s got to realize at some point that her father is way hotter than she is.” Matt raised his head, trying to close the gap of inches between them. “She’s too young for me, anyways. I prefer a lover with a few miles on him, experience.”

John gave a faint sigh, his eyes lingering on Matt’s lips, then he turned away. “Miles, I got.”

“That was a compliment,” Matt said, grabbing the sleeve of John’s robe. “Experience always wins, in my book. Or in my computer. Not really sure if ‘in my book’ is supposed to be a reference to book-making, you know, gambling, but if it is, obviously computers are better for calculating odds and I’d bet on you anytime, even when there’s a tank, fighter plane and a whole navy aircraft carrier against you.”

John shook his head. “You never do shut up, do you?”

“With the right persuasion,” Matt said, pulling meaningfully on John’s robe. “Now let me give you some warm-up – I’m sure I remember better what to do than last time, I was just distracted.”

“Don’t need warm up.” John untied his robe. As his robe slid to the sides, Matt saw that John’s monumental cock was already making a sideways mountain in his hospital gown.

“Guess not,” Matt said faintly. “Here I was going to offer to throw a fire extinguisher that you could shoot, or something.”

John shrugged and raised his gown. And Matt swallowed nervously as he discovered his memory _hadn’t_ exaggerated the size of John McClane’s equipment. Cautiously, keeping an eye on John’s reaction to see if this was out of some personal bounds, Matt reached out and touched John’s thigh. John turned his body so Matt could run his fingers along that hot, veined length and down over the soft, heavy pouch of his balls.

“I don’t have any hand lotion this time,” Matt realized. “They took my bag away and haven’t given it back yet, so no condoms either, not that I had more than that one, anyway.”

John smiled and turned to go to the cabinets on the wall. He let go of the hem of his gown as he walked and the flimsy fabric draped on both sides of John’s erect cock like the perfect-molded plastic resin on some sort obscene action figure. Matt’s eyes were riveted to it while John read under his breath the labels pasted on the various cabinets.

_John McClane Action Figure - shaved head, ripped clothes, unbelievable courage and the balls to match. Comes holding a machine gun in one hand and a badge in the other, plus a bonus wrecked car (with launcher) and a hacker on his knees with a round mouth-hole just the size of McClane’s cock._

“Bingo,” John said and Matt jumped guiltily, raising his eyes from John’s cock. John tugged on one of the lower left cabinets. It was locked, but John didn’t even hesitate – he rapped lightly up the edge of the cabinet door until he found what he was looking for then— _whap_ —a sharp blow and the cabinet sprang open.

“Not sure that’s legal,” Matt said, impressed.

“Considering how much they overcharge insurance, it should all be free,” John said.

“That’s your solution to the national healthcare crisis?” Matt demanded. “Petty theft?”

John ignored him and reached into the cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of thick, clear gel and put it in his robe pocket, then got from the cabinet what looked suspiciously like a condom. “‘Latex sheath’,” John read and grinned. “Wonder what medical reason they claim for this. More like the doctors and nurses all getting busy in empty rooms.”

Matt was relieved that a lack of condom wasn’t going to derail things. Still, he felt compelled to say, “Hey, don’t be sexist,” Matt said. “Doctors and _doctors_.”

John’s smirk turned towards Matt. “Are you saying you want to play doctor?”

“Yeah, Hell yeah. Though we’ve already done ‘I’ll show you mine and you show me yours’ and it was hugely better than that time that Ricky and Tina and me went behind the school and Ricky wimped out after I’d showed mine and Tina wouldn’t spread her legs so we could see better.”

John was walking back towards Matt while simultaneously rolling on a latex sheath. “I bet you were too young anyway.” He paused and frowned. “Probably still are.”

“No way, no way, man,” Matt said quickly. “Don’t you dare hold out now and I’m plenty old enough.” Matt began to get back up to his hands and knees, the position John asked for last time. His bad knee refused to bend right.

“No, no,” John said, stopping Matt’s efforts with his large, warm hands.

“Want a different view?” Matt asked, though he was just as happy to go back to lying on his back.

“You’re going to hurt your knee if you do that,” John said, and gently turned Matt so that he was on his back and again perpendicular on the bed. John pulled Matt closer to the edge of the bed, with his legs up in the air. Carefully, John draped Matt’s legs over his strong shoulders. He put his hands on Matt’s hips and scooted his ass closer to that waiting cock.

“This okay on your knee?” John asked.

In a flash, Matt realized that he’d follow this man into Hell again any day, and be grateful for it. _He takes care of me,_ he thought with a thudding heart. _No one’s ever taken care of me._

Matt blinked against the stupid tears he felt and said, in only a slightly wobbly voice, “Yeah, sure. Your shoulder?”

John gave a slight shrug of his good shoulder. “I’m used to getting shot.”

“Twice? In the same place?”

“Dammit, kid,” John said with a shake of his head and a smile. “I keep forgetting that there’s only one way to shut you up.” He took the bottle of lubricant from his bathrobe pocket and squeezed a generous amount on his fingers.

John’s first touch was cold and Matt shivered. John skimmed his wet cold finger across Matt’s tight asshole until the lube started to warm and Matt started to relax. _‘Hunting of the Snark,’_ he thought to himself and smiled.

“Relax, relax, relax- I tell you three times,” John murmured, obviously also thinking of that previous ‘didn’t-happen’ time when John had stretched him in preparation.

“Then ‘fuck me, fuck me, fuck me’,” Matt replied.

“No need to rush,” John grinned. “No bad guys to worry about today.”

John pushed his first finger in and Matt gasped out, “Wouldn’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t mind bad guys?” John moved his finger slowly and Matt felt his body began to welcome it.

“If that’s what it takes to get a fuck from you,” Matt said, his voice hitching as John added a second large finger.

John said, “You’re doing good. I guess you really do have an ‘eager asshole’.”

“Yeah,” Matt said, feeling anticipation grow in every cell of his body.

The insertion of John’s third finger just added to the anticipation.

“Hurry up,” Matt groaned.

“You never heard that good things come to those who wait?”

“Never could wait.”

“You’d make a lousy cop then.”

“Oh,” Matt laughed breathlessly. “For sooo many reasons.”

“Yeah,” John laughed, and Matt thought smugly that he heard the strain of going slow in John’s voice.

Finally, when Matt’s ass was so warmed up that he was sweating all over, John pulled out his fingers. He wiped off his hands and reached over Matt to get the hospital’s bedside remote. He turned on the TV, found a sports news channel then turned up the volume.

“In case you get bored?” Matt snapped.

John smirked. “You get kinda loud, we need cover noise.”

“Oh,” Matt said. No one had ever told him that he got loud with sex before. Were they too embarrassed or polite to mention it or was it just something that McClane brought out? “Loud, like how?”

“Like a porno track,” John said.

“Huh,” Matt said. “Hollywood or Independent porn, or European?”

John set down the bedside remote and shook his head with a smile. The smile stayed on his lips as he pushed Matt’s gown up to his chest and ran his hands up and down Matt’s exposed skin. Goosebumps followed John’s calloused fingers but Matt gritted his teeth against complaining one more time for John to hurry up. John’s touch continued to amaze him – gentle but confident, powerful but controlled.

Finally, John stood up straighter and gripped Matt’s right hip with one hand. The other strong hand took hold of his own cock and guided it to press against Matt’s slick asshole. He began to push.

Matt moaned and tried to spread his legs wider. John was so goddamn _big_ and Matt wasn’t exactly an old hand at this fucking thing.

John waited for Matt to settle again then began to massage Matt’s stomach, hips and ass until Matt was a puddle of warm goo. John then began to rock, pushing his cock into Matt and pulling back, going a millimeter farther in each time.

Looking at John’s face, Matt realized how much of a strain it was for John to go this slow, when he obviously wanted to shove in hard and fast.

“C’mon, McClane,” Matt said, wiggling his ass. “Do it or don’t do it.”

With a fierce grin, John pushed the rest of the way inside Matt, filling him utterly. Matt groaned, half in pain and half in triumph. John just waited a brief second before beginning to move.

“’Bout time,” Matt panted and relaxed just a little more. The burn began to fade into the background.

“You good?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Matt said.

“Just good?”

“Sure,” Matt said, distracted by the tree trunk in his ass this second time.

John frowned and pulled completely out. Matt squeaked in protest.

“I’m good, I’m good!” Matt said urgently. “I’m great, I’m wonderful, c’mon!”

John ignored him and grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed. He rolled up the blanket and pushed it under Matt’s ass, raising it just a little and changing the angle.

John pushed slowly back inside him, then pulled almost all the way out and pushed back in with one firm thrust and _–zoing!—_ Matt’s body lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Holy--!” Matt gasped. His cock began to throb.

John smirked. “Better?”

Matt whimpered, then moaned as John did it again. With each thrust, Matt could only hold on to the bed and moan some more.

“Better,” John confirmed and proceeded to turn Matt into a mess of noisy sensation. John’s strong hands gripped both of Matt’s hips. He stroked into him with a slow, steady, even pace that had Matt alternately cursing and blessing him.

Matt paid a little bit of attention this time to his own noises and his moaning, swearing, begging amazed him. It also turned him on even more, punctuated as it was with John’s soft grunts.

Urgently, Matt grabbed at his cock and began to stroke.

“Hands off,” John snapped.

Automatically, Matt’s hand was back on the mattress. He frowned – he was too used to following John’s commands instantly. His hand went back towards his cock. A warning growl from John and Matt pulled his hand away again.

Before Matt could protest that he was _dying_ and John didn’t have any hands free to help, John upped the tempo. Matt whined and arched his back as John slammed over and over again into that hot locus of sensation inside Matt’s ass. Matt’s untouched cock slapped against his stomach with each bounce as John fucked him. The hospital bed rattled and the TV chattered and he was definitely going to die.

“Goddamn, fuck, McClane!” Matt yelled, then abruptly his desperation burst out of his balls. Painful, pleasurable intensity spiked through him and he was coming, spraying wildly as his cock bounced and jumped. He spasmed helplessly as pleasure stomped like Godzilla through his body.

John didn’t slow down, and his fingers tightened even more on Matt’s hips. For the first time, John’s touch turned rough and Matt knew that his legendary stamina was at its limit. Matt looked up at John’s face and it was scrunched, almost as if he were in pain.

Abruptly, John’s steady tempo shattered and he was pounding erratically into Matt. John grunted and Matt felt the hot pulse of orgasm inside him. His face still tight, John continued to stroke for a while until he slowed and stopped.

His face relaxed, then a look of pure bliss spread over it and his eyes rolled upward. He gave a low, satisfied laugh that rumbled through his body and into Matt’s. At that moment, John looked younger, less hardened, even happy.

Slowly, John released his death grip on Matt’s hips. He shook out his hands, then began to rub Matt’s legs and hips and as far up as he could reach. Matt’s body was trembling with fatigue, but John, of course, was still steady. He didn’t look at Matt’s face, rather his eyes were on his own hands as they roamed Matt’s too pale skin.

At last, John’s huge cock was soft and shrunken enough to slide out. Matt sighed as he felt it go.

Without a word, John set about tidying them both up, smiling slightly all the while. Gently, he removed Matt’s rubbery legs from his shoulders and then straightened Matt on the hospital bed. He disappeared into the bathroom. Matt heard John flush the used condom down the toilet, then John returned with his hospital gown pulled down and a towel and a wet washcloth in his hands. He wiped Matt’s front side clean of cum and his ass clean of the lubricant then dried him off. He pulled Matt’s gown down, then his blanket up.

Matt sighed again, this time with happiness. He felt cherished, appreciated, the tingle of contentment from his nose to his toes. John looked around, as if he was assessing the scene for any signs of their activities, then leaned over and gave Matt an almost chaste kiss on the lips.

John murmured, “Not bad, kid.”

“You too, old man,” Matt said, smiling up at him.

But he’d never been able to keep his mouth shut. He said, “Why do you always call me ‘kid’?”

John straightened up and gave him a wry smile. “To remind myself how young you are and off-limits.”

“I’m not off-limits,” Matt protested. “I’m totally on-limits, I mean in-limits, no limits. Unlimited. Why do you think you know how old I am, anyway?”

John’s smile faded. “I've read your file.”

Matt groaned and put a pillow over his face. Those four words – five if you count the contraction – had haunted him forever. He’d never read The File, and it was probably a bunch of files at a bunch of different places, but he knew what it contained – his whole goddamned pathetic life. From losing his family, ping-ponging through foster homes, juvenile screw-ups, ‘smart but doesn’t apply himself’, college failures, shitty relationships, and the one huge, good thing he’d ever tried to do, which had landed him on the Black Hat list and screwed permanently.

John pulled the pillow away from Matt’s face and said, “I’ve read worse.”

“No, you haven’t,” Matt mumbled, “But I appreciate you saying so.”

There was a knock at the door and Matt jumped. John didn’t jump – he’d probably sensed with his super cop powers that someone was coming to the door – but he looked up and frowned.

“Mr. Farrell?” Someone called through the door. “I need to speak with you.”

“Great,” Matt grumbled. He wasn’t even going to be able to soak in whatever remained of the afterglow. That person at the door sounded like another someone from another agency here to grill him about ‘his role in the recent unpleasantness’.

John put his hand on Matt’s bare arm. “This never happened, right?” His voice was serious, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes.

“Right,” Matt said. He wanted to say more, but couldn’t get started.

John tightened the sash on his robe and then moved towards the door.

“Wait!” Matt said as he sat up. “When you leave the hospital, I’m never going to see you again, except on TV, right? I mean, we don’t exactly run in the same circles – you know, cop hero versus hacker criminal circles. I really hope I don’t see you on TV, because that means something really bad just happened or is happening right now and you’re fighting it, but if that’s the only way that I’ll ever see you, maybe I wouldn’t mind if something small, like a bank robbery or mini terrorist thing, involving just a little terrorism, not miniature terrorists, though I’m sure little people have their own bad guys and maybe they—”

“Matt,” John said. His calling Matt by his actual name was so startling that Matt broke off his babble.

Smiling, John shook his head. “A lot of people have tried to get rid of me – terrorists, bank robbers, thieves, bad guys, my boss, my kids, drug dealers, more terrorists, bank robbers and bad guys … They all found that I’m pretty damn hard to get rid of. What makes you think you’re going to be able to do it?”

“Well, I, uh, um, uh …” Matt started, then stammered to a halt.

John just continued to smile at him, that familiar, slightly insane, keep-going-regardless smile and Matt slowly began to smile back.

“Okay,” Matt said, “Okay.” He had no idea what he meant or how things could ever be ‘okay’ but he was finally realizing that when it came to John McClane, he didn’t need a plan. He just needed trust and hope and luck – things that Matt had always lacked until John had come bursting into his life.

“Mr. Farrell?” said that annoying voice outside his door.

“Need me to …?” John said, pointing towards the door.

Matt gave a ‘what can you do’ shrug and said, “See ya later.”

“Yeah,” John replied. And a warmth shone in his eyes that … No, Matt had to have imagined it.

John waited until the person knocked again, then yanked open the door and demanded, “Wha’dya want?”

The unseen bureaucrat mumbled something about ‘debriefing Mr. Farrell on the recent situation’.

“Damn it, can’t you lay off?” John snapped. “The kid got shot for his country and he’s in a lot of pain, but you Feds gotta keep interrogating him like some perp. Why don’t you stop being lazy-ass and go read all the interviews the other guys have done already? Kid needs rest, sleep.”

“Um, Mr. McClane, I—”

“Detective,’” John corrected. “It’s _Detective_ McClane and you know why? Because I ‘detect’ things. And right now I detect that you’re going to turn around and walk right back up this hallway and leave ‘Mr. Farrell’ alone for today, and tomorrow, too.”

“But, sir, I have to—”

“And if you do talk to him _much later_ then you’re gonna treat him like a hero and a genius, not a criminal.”

“I don’t—”

“You. Right now,” John said in a hard voice that no sane person would argue with. “Walking up the hall.” He stepped forward, no doubt causing the person outside to jump back, then shut the door behind him.

Matt strained to hear the voices that were now muffled. The Fed was obviously a crazy person, because he was continuing to argue with John as their voices faded away up the hall.

Matt found that he was still sitting up in the bed and that he was grinning like a crazy person himself. Having this particular McClane on your side was better than any army or gun or bodyguard, or just about anything imaginable. And _damn_ … Matt’s body continued to tingle and if he concentrated, he could still feel John’s fingers pressing into his hips.

Matt flopped back against his pillow, still grinning. This relationship that he and John didn’t have? This thing that hadn’t happened twice now? That look of bliss that couldn’t possibly have crossed Mr.— _Detective_ Tough Guy’s face after he’d driven them both to orgasm?

All that wonderful non-existent stuff? Matt could really get used to it.


End file.
